You have memories, sure, but then who doesn't
know where you live these days? Camping out in
the wilderness until the controversy blew over
seemed like a good idea at the time, of course,
but that was before the anaesthetics kicked in
and you lay there, boiling, and unable to feel
the sweat rolling down your leg. They hacked it
off with a kind of efficiency that was easy to
mistake for care but who's complaining now? Not
you! Because you've still got your wits, and the
planes don't fly so low anymore, and you never
were a big fan of running anyway. Yeah, memories,
how about them, now that you get to control when
they appear, for example, or when to delay them,
send them bawling into your dreams with a swish,
the warlords gesturing over 3-D maps of mosques,
glistening rivers barely visible between the cracks
of competing glaciers sliding across dead moonscapes,
ordnance going off, adrenalin bangs in capsule
form, and still you bray 'Bring it on, Charlie!!',
like you mean it, like you never had forgotten
where you hid them, typing in your new password
without even looking, or deliberately keying in
gibberish answers to standard security prompts.
Name of first pet? Eklhferlhl. First girlfriend?
That should keep them busy for a day or two, at
least, and in the interim you can retrace your
final actual step, backwards into the gun nest,
the hot weapon slinging wetly into your palm,
as laser-guided melodies peep-peep you to sleep,
deep in a dream world you created with a click.
About the author
Davey Dreamnation (1972–?) is an Australalian musician, vocalist, pirate and record-label owner who now lives 'in the third person'.